


would it really kill you if we kissed?

by KrisL



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Gunplay, I'm not sure if this even qualifies as gunplay really, Kuryakin resists, M/M, Napoleon being Napoleon, Solo seduces, mature rating for use of gun in sexually-suggestive situation, no explicit material, surprisingly it works out for everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisL/pseuds/KrisL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now they are in San Francisco. Napoleon is riding the high of a mission gone smoothly - he is a little looser than usual, and desperate for some action of a different sort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	would it really kill you if we kissed?

It started as a challenge to himself, but now that Illya has proven immune to his charms time after time, the sting of rejection has surprisingly only grown more acute.

A slammed door in Budapest, a cold stare in Miami, a muttered “crazy Cowboy” in Glasgow, and in Helsinki, Kuala Lumpur, Cardiff, Los Angeles and Florence, a quiet but firm “no” before Napoleon can get a word out. Peril can read him like an open book. But he has to win, if not for his pride then perhaps for his libido.

Now they are in San Francisco. Napoleon is riding the high of a mission gone smoothly - he is a little looser than usual, and desperate for some action of a different sort.

He sprawls on the sofa in their twin room and watches Illya slowly and methodically clean his weapons, still dressed for the dinner party they infiltrated. No use interrupting that. Illya doesn’t even glance his way.

When Illya has snapped his weapons case shut, Napoleon saunters over and puts a hand on Illya’s lapel. He puts on his honeytrap voice as he says, “Peril, you know what I want. What about a reward for good behaviour, tonight?” He slides his hand downwards, inch by inch.

Illya’s lips twitch and he takes a step back, dislodging Napoleon’s hand. His voice is flat as he says, “Are you sure it would be a reward, Cowboy. I don’t think you would like it if I wanted you to put something in your mouth.”

That last sentence almost short-circuits Napoleon’s brain and he takes a step forward almost unconsciously. His voice is slightly rougher as he replies, “Anything, Peril.”

Illya’s eyes widen - that was a feint designed to ward Napoleon off. Well, if Illya backed off now, Napoleon would only use those words as leverage in the future. There was nothing for it except to improvise.

“ _Anything_ at all, Napoleon?”

Napoleon drops to his knees and looks up at Illya — “Anything at all.”

What Napoleon doesn’t expect is Illya crouching down to slide his KGB issue Makarov pistol out of his ankle holster, the dark grey barrel gleaming in the low light. Illya wraps his large hand around the gun, fingers near the butt and thumb over the barrel — broadcasting that he has no intention of firing.

Illya’s left hand slowly rises to the nape of Napoleon’s neck and Napoleon is sure Illya must be able to feel his suddenly jumping pulse from just the thought of Illya’s gun in his mouth.

In goes the muzzle, until the trigger guard hits his bottom incisors. Illya’s left hand is still on his neck, a gentle, steadying pressure. He strains his jaw trying to take in more of the trigger guard.

They stay in that position for what feels like hours, eyes locked on each other. Napoleon gradually comes to the realisation that they are breathing in sync, and that he has never seen Illya’s eyes this dark.

Between one blink and the next, Illya has changed his grip on the gun. His finger is resting lightly on the trigger.

Napoleon knows, objectively, that the safety is engaged and no bullet will leave the chamber while that fact holds. But the knowledge that his life is literally in Illya’s hands sends a thrill along his spine. Just like in Cairo and Miami and Cardiff and on a dozen other missions. He trusts his partner completely.

Napoleon doesn’t draw his mouth away from the gun despite the ache starting in his jaw, doesn’t protest at the change in Illya’s grip. He keeps perfectly still. Illya’s clear blue eyes are on him, his brow furrowed. Illya cocks his head, as if seeking permission to disengage the safety, challenging Napoleon to back out and call this off, whatever this is.

Napoleon tries to open his jaw wider, even though alarm bells are ringing in his mind like the safe in the Vinciguerra affair, because he needs Illya, _now_ , and when had that become a need rather than a want?

He’s staring at Illya’s face, trying to figure out his expression, when the heft of the gun is removed from his mouth.

Before he can ask Illya what the matter is, Illya is pressing surprisingly tender kisses on his forehead, murmuring, “Silly Napoleon. Zero instinct for safety.”

He can hardly get out a retort — that he knew perfectly well that the safety on the gun was engaged — before his mouth is covered by Illya’s own, and it is far more satisfying than the gun in his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by listening to [Rihanna's 'Russian Roulette'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQ2nCGawrSY), which ended up not being relevant because I couldn't find a reason for Illya to have a revolver. Maybe he'll request a phased-out [Nagant M1895 revolver](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nagant_M1895) next time.
> 
> Title from [Halsey's 'Drive'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2oI-BsWbIg4).
> 
> Gun information from Google. Wikipedia tells me the KGB have a silenced [PB pistol](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/PB_pistol) but it was only issued from 1967, so the gun here is the [Makarov pistol](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Makarov_pistol).
> 
> Un-betaed; all mistakes my own. Grateful for any corrections or comments.
> 
> Tumblr reblog: [ http://eastwssh.tumblr.com/post/129945416972](http://eastwssh.tumblr.com/post/129945416972)


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